


You'll Just Know

by Sapphic_Futurist



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Tony Stark, Coffee and Cream, DUM-E's Birthday Party, M/M, Omega Tony Stark, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Rimming, Switch Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, triad bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25101586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphic_Futurist/pseuds/Sapphic_Futurist
Summary: Steve’s Ma had told him that when the right person came along, he would just know it.Back in the forties, an Omega would have constructed a nest around the time of their heat, inviting the Alphas to join them in bonding or breeding, particularly when the partnership was still being solidified. Bucky wasn’t judging, maybe Tony wasn't that kind of Omega.--In which everything tastes like coffee and cream, Steve and Tony find a way back to each other and Bucky works his way into the fold.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 65
Kudos: 750





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are about five thousand words of porn in this and I am not even remotely ashamed. 
> 
> I've love the idea of A/B/O dynamics and rejection of class-specific expectations since I joined this fandom. This is my first time dipping my toe into this sort of AU, and it was a real pleasure to play around with.
> 
> There isn't even remotely a concern about dubious consent, all parties are enthusiastically consenting and thrilled to be here. 
> 
> Thank you to lexi from the Stuckony Discord Server for her beta read. Any remaining mistakes are wholly my own.  
> Enjoy!

Steve’s Ma had told him that when the right person came along, he would just know it.

“But how?” Steve had asked, all of seventeen, adjusting to his new presentation as an alpha. The revelation had shocked everyone in his life, most of all himself. 

“You’ll know sweetheart,” Ma’s eyes had been wistful, turned upward as she searched for words to describe a concept that couldn’t truly be captured. It wasn’t the first time she had tried, always giving in with lips upturned in a sweet smile and a short, affectionate huff or a sigh, shaking her head with romance in her eyes. “You’ll just know it. It’ll be like you found someone you had no idea you’d been waiting for.”

Steve’s Ma hadn’t known the half of it.

Bucky presented just under a year later and Steve had thought maybe Mother Nature had gotten it wrong, yet again. It wouldn’t have been enough for her to bless him with a small, frail build; all long limbs and sharp edges that screamed Omega, and a scent gland that barely functioned after years of illness. 

No, _that_ would have been going easy on Steve.

Instead, Mother Nature threw him headlong into a cycle of longing and desperation when his ‘ _you’ll just know’_ moment manifested in the form of his Alpha best friend.

Bucky had scented of cream; rich and thick with an underlying whiff of vanilla that crept into the back of Steve’s sinuses and liquified his brain. The mouth-watering aroma trailed after him when he left for work in the morning, and greeted him heavily in the evening when he returned.

Without fail, Bucky scented him like mad as soon as the key turned the lock.

“Gotta stop that, Buck,” Steve had grunted against his mouth one evening. The smell of cream, all whipped and airy with Bucky’s arousal had been noticeable from halfway down the hall of their apartment building, greeting him. 

“Can’t help it.”

Bucky’s mouth had been frantic on his tongue stroking deep between the seam of his lips as his hands worked at the button on his trousers, suspenders shoved aside over his thin shoulders.

“People will suspect. They’ll talk.”

“Let ‘em.” Bucky’s voice dropped deep with possession and challenge.

Bucky had told him it didn’t matter; no one had to know and Steve was _his_ no matter what people said, whether it meant they’d be going to hell or not.

It had been a secret for years, and a dangerous one. Alpha-Alpha relationships were simply not done. Not before Steve went into the ice anyway – hadn’t that been an unexpected surprise – because back then, depending on who you asked, it was a crime against the natural process.

If you stumbled upon a circle of the more strictly devout, it was the Devil’s own work.

“It can’t be wrong.” Bucky would mutter, buried to the hilt in Steve’s body, hands sweaty on his hips and back, simultaneously propping him up as he shoved him down onto the thin mattress. “Nothin’ this good could be wrong. Nothin’ wrong about you, Stevie.”

After Bucky had fallen, Steve had been alone in his grief.

He’d never told another soul, not even Peggy, when the smell of vanilla cream started to drift away, releasing its grip on Steve’s clothing. He’d tried to drink himself into a stupor when he realized that eventually, one day, it’d be the last time. 

One day, he’d forget that mouth-watering scent entirely.

Except then Steve had put a plane down in the ice, and woken up seventy years into the future with vanilla clinging to his skin, torturing him in the most devastating way. Alpha-Alpha relationships, though few and far between, were accepted and respected for the most part and his heart sagged in his chest under the weight of his loss.

At night, Steve found himself waking from nightmares where he was drowning. Alone and bitter cold with his lungs turning to ice in an ocean of thick, heady cream. He had spent hours upon hours scrubbing at his skin, desperate for relief, but each morning he woke and it was exactly the same; Bucky’s scent on his tongue, soured with grief and longing, a snapshot of something that could have been. Once.

It haunted him, and it never disappeared.

Until Steve was introduced to the most arrogant, egotistical Omega he’d ever met. An Omega who strutted his way through life as if he hadn’t a care in the world. An Omega who had strutted into _Steve’s_ life, scenting of dark, lush coffee, black as sin, with a mouth on him that made Steve flush like he was back in ‘44. 

The guilt Steve had experienced when he started having a “ _you’ll just know_ ” moment almost brought him to his knees. But that was a long time ago. 

Steve shook his head, smiling to himself. He’d been so unprepared, then.

“What’s going on in that coconut?” Tony asked, forcing Steve to resurface from his memories with a flick to the side of Steve’s head.

Steve glanced down at him, savouring the view of his mate, half wrapped around him in crisp, white sheets. Long, work-roughened fingers slid lovingly into his hair and dragged him down for a kiss.

Tony Stark had breezed into his life before Steve had even known what to expect. Seeping into his pores until Steve’s nightmares had faded away, falling for Tony had been floating in a cup of thick, bitter coffee. One that burned the back of his throat and left Steve’s brain screaming for his next caffeine fix.

Steve was a budding addict and Tony, the world’s best high.

“Just thinking about when I met you.”

“Oh god. You’re such a sap, Rogers.” The words were soft and a small smirk tugged at the edge of Tony’s mouth.

“And you were such an ass.” Steve rolled onto his side and pressed Tony into the mattress to run a hand through his hair. He kissed the sleep from his mouth, watching him stretch luxuriously like a cat reaching into wakefulness. 

Tony’s eyes were closed, but he was scenting him gently, smelling of contentment and safety that lingered on his tongue and had the faint taste of caramel.

“It was so easy to fall in love with you.”

Tony hummed a soft sound, hands tangling in the creases of Steve’s t-shirt.

“You were a sucker.” Tony muttered. “I just happened to be the first ‘mega that scented you after you’d defrosted. It could have just as easily have been Clint. Just picture it, Cap. Imagine where you two could be today.”

Steve snorted, nose wrinkling in distaste as Clint’s familiar smell came to mind. “It never would have been Clint. He smells like papaya.”

Tony shuddered. “Gross.”

Quiet laughter rippled through them both.

As if Tony could possibly think that this just happened; that he’d been passing by on the right day, at the right time. Steve wasn’t that much of a fool. Even if his faith had wavered with the appearance of aliens and Norse Gods, he was still certain. This was destiny. Fate, even.

“You weren’t just the first, Tony.” Steve hadn’t missed the note of self-deprecation under the Omega’s words or the way that the caramel scent burnt around the edges. “I mean, of course you were the first O, but it was so much more than that. You know that.”

“I know that.” Tony offered up a soft smile.

“Hey.” Bucky’s deep, sleep-drunk timbre was a gruff interruption from behind Tony, and Steve hid a guilty smile in the curve of Tony’s neck.

“Uh oh, you woke the beast.” Tony tipped his head back and smirked up at Bucky, a deep growl rumbling through the other man’s chest. 

“ _Some_ of us are still tryin’ to get a few hours of shut-eye, and _some_ of us don’t appreciate this much emotions-talk in the morning. Tony, you’re a doll and we love ya more than anythin’.” Bucky paused. “Stevie, shut your hole.”

Bucky threw a leg over Tony’s hip, pulling him back from the circle of Steve’s arms until he was pressed against his chest. The possessive act made the Alpha instincts in him swell, the urge to grab Tony back taking Steve by surprise. Except a moment later, Bucky’s metal fingers were twining into his own, tucked their combined hands up under the smaller man’s chest. The urge dissipated as quick as it had come.

“Some of us kept the rest of us up last night and don’t deserve nothin’.” Steve shot back, snuggling in closer until he was pressed against Tony’s front.

“More sleep for everyone!” Tony pulled the sheet up under his chin until it was draped across all three of them, and he was only a tuft of chocolate brown hair peeking out.

Steve sighed, peace wrapping around him as he settled back into the sweet plane between wake and sleep. His brain was a happy buzz, filled with a fog that resonated with _matematemate_. 

As Steve drifted off again, the smell of rich, creamy coffee swelled around him. It was a beautiful thing they’d managed to find here and though Tony didn’t linger often in the mornings; he relished these small, soft moments hidden away from the world with his mates safely tucked against his side.

When he woke later in the morning, Tony was already gone off to the office, and he found himself tucked into the corner of the living room couch in the soft, late morning light. 

Steve curled deeper into the edge of the oversized sofa, feet between two cushions with his sketchbook balanced on his lap. Bucky was within arms-reach, fingers wrapped around one of his ankles, taking in the morning news and stroking his thumb in slow circles.

The coffee beside Steve had cooled, forgotten.

Steve paused in his work, shaking out a cramp in his hand and nudging at Bucky with his foot, who glanced up at him. Scenting him lightly, Steve reached out with bliss and love and family, smirking as he nodded towards the cooling coffee cup.

Bucky rolled his eyes, the sucker, and pushed off the couch to refill their mugs. “Coulda just asked, Stevie.”

“Coulda offered, jerk.” Affection soothed the sting, but Bucky frowned.

Bucky mumbled something about ungrateful Alphas and padded away into the kitchen, rustling around in the refrigerator.

Steve had been working on a new sketch of DUM-E since yesterday, the childlike robot chasing after Tony on the page. In his claw, DUM-E held up a fire extinguisher as caricature Tony chased after caricature Bucky, hair sticking up at all angles. The idea had popped into his head last week, after Bucky had flat out refused to look at Tony’s design for the Mark 22 of Bucky’s ever advancing metal arm.

It was a near perfect depiction of the friendship Bucky and Tony had created, sprouting from the ashes of Siberia and having grown into something truly amazing.

After everything, it had been a long road back. 

For Steve, rebuilding that bridge with Tony had been all fiery shouting matches, eventually burning low into heated discussions and sharp comments. When distrusting glares gave way into uncertainty, Steve hadn’t missed his opportunity and everything had exploded again, with Tony’s legs wrapped around Steve’s waist and his tongue halfway down Steve’s throat.

Tony had been angry, thrusting back against him and enveloping him in that silken, sweet heat as his rich scent went bitter around the edges. Steve had tasted his loss and resentment on his tongue. Whispered apologies and promises to make things right rewarded him with whiffs of hazelnuts gone too soon; Tony’s unbridled arousal. 

Somehow, through it all, they’d found a way back.

Rebuilding the Compound had taken time, and patching up the team had taken even longer. Trust wormed its way back in as they expanded suites and extended training exercises. Despite everything, after each long, exhausting day, Steve would tumble Tony into bed and they worked their way back to each other with difficult words and sweaty skin.

It was good to have Bucky there, that friendship deep and renewed yet somehow different. It wasn’t that Steve hadn’t thought about what had been there before. But things had changed, and Bucky had changed too.

It never came up.

What Steve hadn’t been prepared for was the immediate way that Bucky and Tony took to each other. A healthy serving of cream in a black cup of coffee; evenly matched.

It had taken a long time for him to confide in Tony about Bucky when the relationship had been new, and longer still to admit that Bucky had also been an alpha. Tony had been curious and kind as the story spilled out of him for the first time, a hand held in his as he soothed him and reminded him that just because the world hadn’t caught up with them in the 40s, didn’t mean that their love wasn’t normal, beautiful, and real.

In a moment of uncertainty afterwards, when the anger had been set aside, Tony had asked if maybe he’d rather try exploring things with Bucky instead. Tony sitting there, face smooth marble, and offered to lay down their bond, as strained and non-existent as it was, had made Steve want to be sick.

Maybe it had been talking about it that had done it, though, because despite Steve’s adamant refusal, the thought of Bucky still slipped in from time to time. He’d been happy enough to just ignore it, shove it away and wrap himself in discovering what friendship meant with this new version of his childhood love.

He would have never thought… had never _let_ himself think…

But then one night Tony had come out and suggested it.

“Steve,” Tony’s lips were a ripple across his chest as he spoke, “I think Bucky’s lonely.”

Tony hadn’t been wrong; Bucky had been sulking around the Compound, sprawled out on furniture or sitting on the edge of the roof. A perch that left them both mad with worry. 

When conversation between them lulled, Bucky often drifted off into what looked to be a daydream at first glance, eyes filled with longing, subdued and far away. 

“He probably is.” Steve had agreed.

“Have you noticed he gets lost in space a lot lately?”

“Mm.”

“And you’re… you’re okay with that?” Tony had prodded gently, the question posed with a little more _something_ than Steve seemed to grasp. Long, deft fingers had traced patterns in the sprinkle of hair on his stomach, curling between the strands in a journey up to his chest.

Steve had been so at ease, so peaceful that night, and, as Tony often reminded him, so painfully oblivious.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay with that? Bucky can do what he likes.” Steve replied, and the tousled brown hair had popped off his chest, presenting him with a full view of grinning, gloating Tony Stark.

“Oh my god. You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking. You can’t be that blind!” Mirth dancing around the corners of Tony’s mouth.

“What?”

“He’s thinking about us! How did you miss that, Rogers? You think he’s just, what, having himself a pretty little murder daydream? Steve! He _scents_ us when he does that. Wait, do you not smell it?”

Of course, Steve had smelled it, but he also hadn’t been prepared to tell Tony that he smelled that scent all the time. That smell was second nature to his own after all these years. It lived right beneath his skin, torturing him and wracking him with guilt when he was wrapped up in their bed. Wrapped up in Tony’s arms.

“God, did you go back in cryo with him or something? This takes slow-on-the-uptake to a whole new level Rogers–”

“Hey!”

“–quiet, the genius is speaking. He only zones when he’s watching us. Or with us. It doesn’t happen in team meetings, or if the others join us for dinner. He’s not just thinking about _someone_ , Capsicle, he’s thinking about _us_!”

The thought had flabbergasted Steve at first, who had, of course, considered it once or twice. Who would have blamed him? He was only a man, and a man with a clearly well-defined type at that, but he’d never allowed it to go very far. He had Tony now. 

It felt… like a betrayal to go there.

But when he had thought about it… he’d allow himself only the briefest moment. Quick, self-indulgent fantasies in the shower when everything had still been raw and painful, only a few times in their early days back at the Compound. It had been cathartic, he’d told himself, healing the aching parts of him torn open after he’d broken his partner’s heart, and found only a shell of his old friend and lover.

When he’d repaired things with Tony, he’d set it aside, his friendship with Bucky being more important as he held himself together with tape and string.

But once Tony had put the thought out there, it had stuck fast, worming its way into Steve’s thoughts at the most inopportune times.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. About them. Tangled together in the dark, all hands and fingers and _tongues_. It hadn’t been too long before he’d found himself overwhelmed by feverish dreams where he was sandwiched between two feisty, sarcastic brunets, both panting and begging, crying out his name like a prayer.

His days became wracked with the lingering smell of coffee and cream.

In the night, he woke hot and heavy, a desperate, aching erection between his thighs and Tony would only smirk and pull Steve towards him.

He was all ridiculous arrogance when he’d rolled his eyes and wrapped his hands around Steve’s cock, whispering, “Really, again? Can’t help yourself, can you Steve?”

But he’d always work him over quickly with hand or mouth, or inside the warm heat of his body, bringing them both over the edge in a matter of seconds with a dark chuckle as he spewed lines of filth right into Steve’s ear.

“I want to watch him fuck you, filling you up with those metal fingers before he pounds you into the mattress. Oh fuck, you’d be so gorgeous together. Two beautiful alphas, all for me.”

The thought of Bucky inside him made him shudder. 

It still felt wrong to hear it out loud. Forbidden. A secret he shouldn’t have shared with anyone. And yet he wanted it more now than he had anticipated, memories from decades ago flaring back to life.

Sometimes, Tony would tease him, murmuring hot little encouragements in his ear.

“Say it for me, gorgeous. Say his name when you come.” And when they were both so close, his voice pitching off into breathy gasps. “I want it too, baby. I wish he were here with us. God, Bucky. Christ, Steve, just imagine it. Imagine us all together.”

Steve would come like a rocket, pumping streak after delicious streak into Tony’s body as he leaked slick over his thighs, trickling down both their legs. Bucky’s name tumbling from both their lips until Steve’s own throat was raw with it. 

After, Tony was gentle and soothing, pulling him against his chest and easing a hand over his back until he was dozing off, satisfied yet somehow not fully sated.

“Whatever you want. Even if it’s only this. It doesn’t have to be anything more than this, Steve.” Tony would whisper, as if he wasn’t offering to hand Steve the entire world on a platter. As if he wasn’t offering him _everything._

And god, how he had wanted.

“Isn’t that a pretty thought.”

Bucky’s teasing voice broke through and Steve flushed, heat splattering across his cheeks, which only made Bucky’s smirk widen into a wolfish grin. “Care to share with the class?”

The assassin had settled back into the couch without a sound, eyes focused on Steve’s hot face. He took a long, smug drink of his coffee when Steve stayed silent.

“Come on, doll, let’s hear it. You know how I like to see that pretty blush.”

Bucky slid across the couch, right hand pressing into his chest before travelling slowly south.

“Nope, let’s not. I do not want to hear it.” Clint interrupted, coming back into the communal living room, flanked by Natasha. He quickly filled two thermoses with coffee, black for Nat and a touch of milk for his, as she pulled on her jacket.

“You headed out?” Steve asked, giving Bucky a hard shove off him, ignoring his snort.

“We’re meeting Laura and the kids to take them tobogganing.” Clint supplied. “We’ll be back sometime after dinner.”

Steve grinned at them, the image of Natasha covered in snow and Clint’s children a sweet and warming notion. She picked up on that thought real quick, glaring at him from the doorway. The softness behind her eyes betrayed her.

“When Fury said we’d have indiscriminate access to the Quinjet, I’m not sure if this is what he meant.”

Clint just shrugged. “Since he’s under the impression that “retirement” is a long weekend and few extra weeks holiday in a year, I’ll be taking the Quinjet wherever I damn well please.”

“Just tell ‘im to fuck off.” Bucky offered, unhelpfully, waving a hand in their direction.

“I want to tell you to fuck off.” Clint snapped, light and playful. Thermoses handed to Natasha, he shrugged on his winter jacket and pulled on his boots before he paused, digging around in his pockets and coming up empty. “You seen my gloves?” 

Bucky glanced over the back of the couch. “The ugly purple ones?”

The gloves had been a gag Christmas gift Natasha had brought to their first gift exchange when the original Avengers had moved into the Tower. They were bright purple, fuzzy, with a big, glaring Hulk face on the back of each hand, much to Bruce’s chagrin.

Clint had been the lucky recipient, and out of duty and his strong commitment to trolling, every winter at the first snowfall he unpacked the gloves from his closet and wore them until spring.

“Yeah, what the hell? I could have sworn I’d left them in my pocket.”

Nat shrugged. “Maybe you left them in your room. Come on, we’re going to be late. Just borrow these.” She tossed a set of Bruce’s warm, lined gloves he’d left behind while he was off gallivanting in South Africa. With a hurry of goodbyes, she was tugging him out the door, muttering something about not disappointing her favourite niece and nephews.

Steve paused at the curious look on Bucky’s face. “That… you didn’t take them, right? This isn’t another prank war starting?”

There was absolutely no way that Steve could handle another Barnes-Barton prank war. If not for his sake, he wasn’t so sure that Tony’s heart could take it, either. 

Bucky barked out a laugh. “Not a prank, punk, but have you noticed that things have been going missing lately? Before Bruce left last week, he couldn’t find his fleece. Wanda couldn’t find her socks yesterday either.”

Steve considered it. “I hadn’t realized. You think someone’s taking things from the Compound?”

“It’s just odd, is all. Maybe we should ask Tony if one of the bots is on the fritz or something.”

“He’ll be pissed if you suggest something of his own masterful creation is on the fritz.” Steve warned and Bucky shot him a grin.

“Might, but this would also be comin’ from the genius that built DUM-E.” Steve tugged Bucky in, laughing, as the brunet readjusted in his arms and leaned back against him. “We should call ‘im later, tell him to get his ass home for dinner tonight. I feel like we’ve barely seen him at all this week. He was gone when I woke up this morning.” 

“That’d be nice, Buck.”

“Feel like we haven’t fucked ‘im in ages either.” Bucky teased, a hand sliding back down his chest, aborted when Steve grasped his wrist and pinned it to his own thigh on the couch. 

The other Alpha was insatiable and between him, and their greedy little Omega, Steve was concerned about the very real prospect of spending the rest of his life overexerted and exhausted.

“You fucked him last night.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, grumbling something about never leaving the bed again, and never getting his way.

The morning bled away into midafternoon and Steve left Bucky to his workout, losing himself in the comfort of his sketch. As colour flowed between the sharp black lines, Steve smiled and finished his work with a neat signature across the bottom right corner.


	2. Chapter 2

_You’ve reached the personal voicemail of Tony Stark. Please stop leaving me messages_. 

Bucky rumbled audibly when the beep sounded. “Stark. This is at least the third message I’ve left you. ‘M startin’ to take it personal. Call me back.”

Running his hand through his lanky, too long hair, Bucky refocused his attention on the weights next to his bench. It wasn’t as much that he needed to lift weights so much as he enjoyed the structure and repetition. Each movement, controlled and dictated by a schedule long pressed into his brain. 

It gave him something to focus on when there was something wrong with his Omega. 

Bucky couldn’t put his finger on it, and Steve, the lump, hadn’t even seemed to notice. Yet something smelled off, too sweet, too sugary, and Tony had never been so absent in the time Bucky had known him.

Steve had described Tony this way once. Flighty, uncertain, avoidant. A long time ago, he’d said, back in the beginning before Tony started to feel more secure. Before he’d found family, created a home. It was hard to image the cocksure O as insecure. He was the most uppity, arrogant man Bucky had ever met. 

Until he went and asked stupid questions. 

Was it still that? Bucky couldn’t remember how long it’d been now, but he was sure he’d apologized, repeatedly, and offered a slew of reassurances both serious and when he was buried to the hilt inside of the O, singing his praises. Sighing, frustrated, Bucky let the weights slam down against the mat and enjoyed the way they landed with a dull thud.

“Damn it, Stark,” he growled to no one and himself. 

At some point early on, Tony had told Bucky that his brain was like a sieve.

The metaphor wasn’t entirely wrong, Bucky remembering the bigger moments, the things that really mattered, while everything else slid through and disappeared. The first few months after the programming had been removed had been the worst, Bucky forgetting large pockets of time.

But he remembered the day that Tony had called and said they were coming back, that they were needed for some task or other, everything that had happened months prior apparently forgotten. 

Steve had crumpled, shoulders sagging forward in a display of submission Bucky hadn’t seen before. 

“Tony, please, can’t we just talk about this?” Steve was practically begging, his face a painful mask contorted with longing and sadness, and a desperate love so intense Bucky felt almost uncomfortable sitting in the same room.

A room that smelled rancid, like food gone bad weeks ago.

Steve hadn’t scented much before the war, and even afterward the serum, his scent was always light and sweet like the slivers of chocolate they’d get at base around Christmastime. Bucky had never experienced him smelling like _this_.

“Drop it. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Bucky could hear Tony clear as day through the line. Damned super hearing. He’d made a move to shift away and Steve pinned him with a glare that made him pause.

“I can feel that that’s not true.” Steve growled deep in his chest; a natural response to an Omega’s – _Steve’s bonded Omega’s_ – blatant rejection.

“Don’t snarl at me, asshole. I couldn’t care less what you think you feel. You destroyed the bond the day you picked him over me.” Tony’s words landed like acid, corroding Steve’s face into something grim and twisted.

“I didn’t pick him over you. We’re not together; it’s not like that anymore. Tony, come on. You know that’s not what this is.”

“Why don’t you just bite him and put me out of my misery, Rogers? It’s the quickest way to end this and you know it.”

“Tony! We’ve talked about this. That’s not – I don’t want – I _love_ you.”

There was a long, drawn pause. Maybe Tony had covered the receiver with his palm because the stuttering breaths he was drawing were muffled, though still audible. They seemed to fill the silence in the room, which had become bigger, emptier as the conversation went on. 

“Please stop doing this to me.” Tony whispered.

Bucky wasn’t particularly familiar with bonding. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he was capable of bonding, his glands a mottled mess at his throat and destroyed entirely at his left wrist. But from what he did know, bonds drifted apart slowly if not properly tended. Or snapped closed if either of the pair attempted to bond with another.

Tony had been aching. Bucky could hear it in his voice and feel it deep in his bones. It wasn’t unlike the way he had felt, coming out of cryo for the last time, and learning that Steve belonged to someone else now. What he’d gone and _done_ to that someone else on Bucky’s account.

“Tell him I’ll stay in Wakanda.” Bucky had said gruffly. “Go back on your own and work things out with your O.”

“He’s not staying in Wakanda.” Tony’s anger wafted through in a fresh wave as Steve shot Bucky a helpless look. “Also, in the future, if you could let me know if I have an audience, I’d appreciate it. Just, please, tell me you’re not taking this call in bed. No, actually, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. Gross–”

“Tony for God’s sake, would you just–”

“I’m not going to let some damned brainwashed prisoner of war rot in a field herding sheep because you’re an asshole, Steve. Just get on the fucking plane and come home.”

“What about us?” Steve asked, quieter, arms trembling where Bucky watched him try not to snap the phone clenched in his fist. 

“There’s no us, anymore.” 

“Tell him there ain’t no us either.” Bucky offered. “And that it’s goats. Not sheep.”

Tony hesitated over the line before he exhaled heavily, annoyed. “Put him on the phone.”

“Tony, no I don’t think–”

“Put him on the damned phone, Rogers.”

“Give me the phone, Steve.” Bucky plucked the phone out of his fingers before Steve could get a word in and shoved him off when he tried to yank it back. “Stark.”

“Barnes. You safe to be around people now?” Tony's voice exuded a confidence that didn’t align with the conversation Bucky’d been overhearing.

“Not sure if that’s ever really going to be the case. But without the arm things are a lot better. Not so messed up in my head.”

“I’d say I’m sorry for destroying it, but I’m not.”

“I ain’t complainin’.” Bucky assured him. “You sure you want this? ‘M more than happy to stay here with the goats. Don’t wanna go anywhere I’m not wanted. Done a lot of that already.”

“The world wants Captain America back.” Tony said, voice dripping venom. “And Captain America apparently doesn’t go anywhere you don’t go, so you’re coming along for the ride.”

“He’ll go if I tell ‘im to take a hike.” Bucky said though he could already see the distress and protest in the look Steve was giving him. “We’re not together, Stark. You don’t have anything to worry about. That ended a long time ago and I’m not lookin’ for anything. Not expectin’ anything.”

Tony had breezed right past it. 

“Are you going to come back or not?”

Bucky grunted, frustrated. “Can I bring the goats?”

“You can absolutely not bring any goats here, Terminator.”

“One goat?” Bucky countered.

“You can bring a picture of your favourite goat, and in exchange for your cooperation I’ll take a look at your arm and see if I can make you something new.”

Bucky hesitated. “Why would you do that?”

“Steve says you were left-handed, before.”

“That’s right.”

“So, you need a left hand.” Tony said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Bucky was some brain-dead moron. Not that he didn’t feel that way six days out of seven.

“We’ll be there, then.” As he handed the phone back towards a gaping Steve, the line clicked and went dead. “What?”

“You– why did you–”

“You’ll be able to figure it out when we get there.” Bucky had told him. “Never met an O – anyone – that’d do something like that if there weren’t still feelings there. He loves you, Steve. You got some real grovelling to do, but he loves you.”

Steve had dropped his head into his hands and let himself fall apart.

It wasn’t long after before Bucky was in New York, lost and wandering through life all over again.

The early days at the Compound had flown by quickly, Bucky barely retaining anything as he met countless new faces and tried desperately not to get lost in the various wings of the building. His access codes were heavily restricted, and sometimes he’d find himself trapped – something he still swore was a joke Stark had been playing on him – unable to figure out where he’d come from.

Watching Steve and Tony dance around each other had been a unique form of torture, especially after he’d caught on to what Steve loved about the Omega. Tony was a force to be reckoned with, all harsh words and cutting remarks. When he laughed, which had been rare in the beginning, Bucky felt it down in his toes.

He smelled like Heaven, and Steve smelled even better when he was at his side.

The day they’d finally made up, Bucky had locked himself in his apartment, drowning in a smell not unlike a thin coffee, sweetened with hot cocoa that Steve used to make them in the biting Brooklyn winters. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever experienced before, and he’d fisted himself roughly and often, picturing them together. Picturing himself with each of them. Between them.

Anything his mind would give him.

Guilt cloyed after that, a constant nuisance.

It flared hot in his stomach when Tony was bent over his arm, performing routine tests as he made his way through the third model, he’d created for him. That smell surrounding him, drawing him in like a ship in the night.

Tony had stuttered through the beginning, but found his footing quickly enough. He busied himself with explaining the procedures and the mechanisms, science far beyond anything Bucky could comprehend. Tony asked about his goats, and had Bucky describe life in Wakanda in great detail to fill the time and space.

Tony swore up and down he hadn’t been locking Bucky in various parts of the Compound, but the shit-eating grin on the mechanic’s face suggested he might just start. The humour eased some of the sting between them, and neutrality was a hard-fought war that Bucky had won in the end.

Fixing the damage to his arm had turned out to be far easier than fixing the damage to his brain. 

What was left of the programming showed itself when Tony had poked him wrong at the shoulder, sending a whirl of pain up and along his spine. One minute Bucky was balanced on the table, the next he had Tony in a hard grip, fingers tight around his throat. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, it’s okay,” Tony had grunted, voice muffled as Bucky squeezed his breath away between the metal fingers. “My fault. You’re okay. You’re okay, Barnes.”

Bucky dropped him in a flash, overwhelmed by the smell of _burning,_ Tony’s fear too intense to pass off as anything else, as Tony fell to his knees gasping and Bucky stumbled backwards. 

“Jesus fuck. No, what the fuck are you doing? Don’t come near me!” He’d exclaimed when Tony had shuffled slowly closer, hands up in front of his face, bruises evident on his throat already. One thick thumb print interrupted the mating gland at his throat, skewing the shape.

“My fault. Could have been worse. Take a deep breath, you’re okay. You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay too.”

“Your neck–”

“Calm down. Breathe.” Tony scented him heavily, wrapping him up in the soothing warmth of acceptance and welcome, of _safety_ , rushing in to scrub the hint of charred caramel from his nostrils. It didn’t click with Bucky’s muddled brain. How could this man continue to be so kind to him over and over again, after everything?

“At least call Steve. Call him down here so I don’t – I can’t – I don’t want to hurt you again.” He felt pathetic and close to tears. “Tony, please.”

Tony’s eyes widened, but he leaned in and put a hand on his right shoulder, steadying him. “No harm, no foul. Can’t change what’s in your DNA. Now, tell me what happened so we can avoid it for next time.”

That’s when he’d known he was falling in love with the man.

It had happened all at once, and Bucky hadn’t done a damned thing to stop it. He was greedy and selfish because he had nothing, didn’t deserve nothing neither, but he wanted it all. He wanted them both, but with Tony it was somehow easier.

Steve had still stared at him most days, waiting for the old Bucky to come home.

As if one day he might find Bucky at breakfast, more Brooklyn than Soviet and everything would go back to the way it had been. Except Bucky had come back to find Steve with someone else, bonded despite the fact that that bond was shrivelled and faded to almost nothing. He was a different man now, and so was Bucky, and maybe neither of them was actually coming home.

Tony had met them in the middle, pointing out that perhaps Bucky didn’t need to be taken apart again. There was no reason to strip him down to the base and build him back from the ground up. He was just… this person now. The charming, innocent flirt from Brooklyn was gone, and years of the hardness of life as the Winter Soldier had left a mark.

A stain, if you asked Bucky.

Maybe Bucky could be everything at once and something new altogether.

So, when things started to change, Bucky assumed it was Tony that had set the ball in motion. Tony seemed to set everything in motion.

The eccentric little Omega saw everything for exactly what it was, and exactly what he wanted it to be.

“Do you have to do that here,” Bucky demanded one evening, voice gruff. 

It was more out of self-preservation than anything else, as he wandered into the communal space to find Tony half on top of Steve, perched on his thighs. They did this more often these days, the bridge between them rebuilt from the ashes. 

The more he stumbled upon them, the more he found himself tripping into a hot shower, jerking himself off fast onto the tiles. It was getting a bit exhausting.

“Don’t be jealous.” Tony purred, teasing him in a way that would have been impossible a few months ago.

Steve pinked up prettily, the way he always did, and started to push Tony off his lap. An octopus, wriggling in Steve’s big arms, Tony refused to be dislodged and managed to curl in closer.

“Tony get off.”

“He doesn’t really want me to get off.” Tony threaded a hand in the back of Steve’s hair and gave him a pout. “He just wishes there was–”

The look Steve gave Tony was severe, cutting him off. That brought Bucky up short.

“What’s that?”

Steve sighed, and carefully glanced up to meet Bucky’s eye. “Tony has this idea… that you might, that maybe you’d want. He thinks that–”

“Oh my god.” Tony pushed out of Steve’s arms and rolled his eyes. He stumbled to his feet and came to a stop right in front of Bucky, so close he had to tip his head back to look up at him. “I told him that you stare. That you think about us. But he doesn’t believe me.”

“I don’t– no that’s not–”

“God, you’re as bad as he is, aren’t you? Do I have to do all the work here?” Tony demanded, and then he was fisting a hand in Bucky’s t-shirt and forcing his mouth against Bucky’s, kissing him hard.

Bucky grunted softly, surprised but not enough to shove Tony away. When he opened his mouth, letting Tony’s tongue slip between his teeth he heard Steve gasp behind him and he yanked back, eyes wide with alarm. What the fuck was he thinking?

His scent wafted up in a thick cloud and he flushed, feeling wide open and on display.

“Steve, I didn’t–”

“Tony, you said you weren’t going to push.” Steve chastised, and it took all of five seconds for his brain to recalculate the gasp he took for outrage and surprise as desire and want. 

Tony smirked up at him tugging at his shirt to pull him over to the couch.

“That wasn’t bad, Buckaroo.” Tony was cheeky and when his brain came back online, any minute now, he was going to do something about that. Definitely _something_. 

Maybe kiss him to shut him up. That’s something he would have done, once.

“Steve?” Bucky gave him a hesitant look. He hadn’t felt this uncertain in a lifetime. The memory of a skinny, bony little Alpha, arms wrapped around his waist, swam behind his eyes.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag.” Then Steve was placing one big palm on the side of his face, cupping his cheek as if he were something delicate. “We were going to talk to you. Or at least I was.”

Tony laughed, drawing his gaze when he licked his lips, glanced him up and down, and said, “I said we should just jump your bones.”

“I’ll accept either, apparently.” Bucky remarked, dazed.

“We want you, Buck. Both of us. Can we – do you want that too? Tony thinks you do, but I have to be sure. I need to know that you want this and that you know that we want this, not just for the physical stuff, but all of it.”

“We really want the physical stuff though.” Tony assured him quickly.

“You ridiculous little punk,” Bucky shook his head and Steve’s cheeks pinked up again, eyes tipping off to the side. Always so shy, his Alpha. “I’ve wanted you forever. And then you went out and found this perfect Omega and Lord help me, I wanted him too. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

“Bucky,” A light smile played across Steve’s lips. “God, I missed you.”

“Stop romancin’ and just kiss me, Stevie.” 

Steve kissed him exactly the way he remembered, all fumbling eagerness with a little too much teeth, pouring everything he’d ever felt into Bucky’s mouth. Steve inhaled him sharply, shuddering under his fingertips, and teased along his bottom lip with his tongue. Invading his mouth, Bucky licked and sucked and tried to draw out that delicious chocolate flavour he knew lingered below the surface somewhere.

A second set of hands on his hips distracted him, and he pulled back to refocus his attentions when Tony’s mouth trailed along the side of his neck. Kissing Tony was a morning’s jolt of caffeine, setting his blood on fire and making him want to shift right out of his clothes.

“I knew it.” Tony said definitively after they’d kissed for what felt like hours.

Bucky smacked a hand against his flank. “Don’t get cocky.”

“I think you’ll find you like me cocky.” Tony grinned back, thrusting against him from where he sat up on his knees, one hand under the hem of his shirt, the other buried in Steve’s hair. Tony was hard, rutting into the divot of his lower back and setting his stomach alight with desire.

“That’s crass.” Steve chastised, but he was smiling and his eyes were dancing.

“Take me to bed, Steve. Show me how to treat your O right.”

Tony hopped off the couch and pulled Bucky up after him. “We don’t need him. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” He assured Bucky, Steve trailing after them laughing as if he were an afterthought. 

Tony was an excellent teacher and Bucky took to them both like a star pupil. It had been a little scary, and a lot new. It had been perfect. Not immediately, but with time and proper care, it had become something Bucky could have never anticipated. 

Something had changed, now. Subtly, in the night, maybe while they slept, ignorant to the inner working of Tony’s mind. 

Bucky wasn’t going to fuck this up for them. He couldn’t.


	3. Chapter 3

The sketch was actually a birthday present for DUM-E.

Or a creation present, because Tony consistently reminded him that DUM-E had not been born, nor did he require the celebration of a birthday. But Steve had a soft spot for the little guy, and he’d damn well celebrate his birthday if he chose to.

After the first time, it had turned into somewhat of an event – save for last year when he’d simply mailed a card from Wakanda, wishing his silver-clawed friend many happy returns of the day. When they’d come home, and Steve had seen the card hanging by DUM-E’s port in Tony’s workshop, he’d known there might still be a chance for them.

So, this year Steve was back in full force, organizing a party for their favourite robot. Steve had invited everyone and all save Bruce and Rhodey, being available with Wanda and Vision returning from their Paris trip earlier, just to make it to the festivities.

Which was how Steve found himself surrounded by his partners, the new spider kid he adored, Clint, Nat, Vision and Wanda, celebrating DUM-E’s thirtieth turn around the sun.

“It’s hopeless, Mr. Stark.” Peter was saying, sullen with his chin in his hands as DUM-E gave a supportive chirp beside his shoulder. He was pining over a girl at his high school and had been for weeks.

“Have you tried flirting?” Tony asked, indulgently, holding up his hands in defense when Peter shot him an exasperated look. “Okay, okay, have you tried flirting a bit more obviously? I mean, sometimes you really need to spell it out for someone–”

“Tony–” Bucky tried to interrupt but Tony continued over him.

“–and just look them up and down, lick your lips and tell them how badly you want to fu–”

“Okay!” Steve gave an uneven chuckle, heat spreading across his cheeks as his ears burned. Bucky thumped him on the back as the rest of the group laughed and Tony leered.

“Anyways,” Peter digressed, his own cheeks tinted, “have you guys seen my PJs? I mean, it’s not really a big deal or anything, but I could have sworn I’d left them here the last time I’d stayed. I would have packed an extra set.”

Steve frowned. “Wait, your _pajamas_ are missing?” 

At the end of the table and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Tony stiffen. Bucky had clocked the motion too, turning his attention on him.

“Your bots stealing our stuff or something, Tones?” He joked, but Steve could have sworn that Tony’s face had flickered blankly right before he rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Maybe, or maybe your swiss cheese brain has been forgetting to put our laundry back in the right place. Even DUM-E could do a better job than you do.” Tony dug his fork into the decadent chocolate cake Steve had whipped up for the bot and cocked a brow.

Laughter rippled along the table.

Bucky had become somewhat of the designated laundress for the Avengers after losing the last prank battle to Clint. There was only a week left on his debt, and Tony couldn’t be more right, Steve having been the primary victim when Bucky hadn’t understood the concept of the dryer.

Bucky had claimed that Steve just looked better in tight shirts.

“Or maybe Tony’s nesting drive has finally shown up?” Clint teased, elbowing him in the ribs. “Started settling into that domestic life, tin man? Our very own fuzzy ‘mega magpie?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, Katniss, I’m the epitome of domesticated bliss.”

“Lay off him, Clint.” Steve grunted with a smile.

Tony was rarely sensitive about his class, having resigned himself years ago being a rather unorthodox Omega. He was an arrogant, egotistical, surly bastard when he wanted to be, commanding a room and parading about like an alpha on most days. 

Before he’d come out, after Afghanistan, Tony had lived as an alpha for a long time, dampening his scent and downing suppressants like candy. He’d moved on since then, but nesting remained a sore subject. 

“Wouldn’t that be a sight? Tony Stark, stealing away with all our warm fuzzies into the night to build his Alphas a nest.” Clint crowed; his laughter contagious to those nearest him.

The tips of Tony’s ears pinked up despite his own laughter.

“I think I have a few knitted blankets, if you want them, Stark.” Wanda piped up, but there was an underlying warm in her inflection. Being the only other Omega, save Peter who had yet to present, her words didn’t hold the same sharp edge.

And Steve was willing to bet she would have knitted him a dozen more if that was what he needed.

“So anyways,” Peter cut back in. “If you happen to find them, can you let me know? They’re kind of my favourite.”

“The Iron Man ones, right Petey?” Tony joked.

Natasha reached over to ruffle the kid’s hair. “They’re the Widow ones.”

Peter laughed good-naturedly and pointed his fork towards Tony, jumping into a razzing contest about all the merch that Tony had held onto when the Spider-Man and Winter Soldier lines had gone live in the fall, joining his collection of Captain America specialties.

Steve leaned back in his chair, relaxing into the easy discussion and ignoring the pointed look that he could feel Bucky burning into the side of his head. If he met his eye, it would be all too obvious that they were sharing a similar thought.

It wasn’t that Bucky had meant to upset their Omega a few weeks back.

After one of Tony’s unexpected and sporadic heats, Bucky had casually asked if Tony wasn’t the domestic type. 

Back in the forties, an Omega would have constructed a nest around the time of their heat, inviting the Alphas to join them in bonding or breeding, particularly when the partnership was still being solidified. Bucky wasn’t judging, simply inquiring after they’d all silently ignored conversations about bonding and pups for months.

Bucky Barnes had never been one to tiptoe. 

Tony had simply blinked in surprise, and then looked a little hurt. It wasn’t until later that Steve had realized that was Tony’s spectacular way of twisting the simple question into a comment on his Omega-hood; his lack of domesticity and nesting being a question of whether he was broken, or maybe not enough for the two mega-Alphas.

They hadn’t spoken about it since, Bucky smoothing everything over with soft words and murmured apologies.

It wasn’t long before dinner and dessert were being cleared away, dragging Steve’s attention back to the party. Tony was rolling his eyes, begrudgingly agreeing that it was present time as the team offered up various gifts, selected special for DUM-E.

“You’re just jealous they’re not for you, Tony.” Nat teased, fastening her gift of a polka-dot bowtie right below DUM-E’s claw where it met the long strut. He whirred happily at her, claw rotating back and forth.

“He’s a _robot_.” Tony’s assertion fell on deaf ears.

Peter offered up a set of three personalized fire extinguishers that had everyone in stitches. They were a mixture of shapes and sizes, all bright patterns and fully up to code for DUM-E to have a selection to choose from the next time Tony was closed to lighting something, or himself, on fire.

Tony tried to play it off, but when Steve unboxed the sketch that he had had framed for DUM-E, his eyes had gone soft and sweet, stirring up warmth in the pit of his stomach as the smell of freshly ground coffee beans wafted towards him.

DUM-E rolled towards Steve, knocking the edge of his chair as he rotated his claw into his lap, like a dog waiting for scratches.

Tony took the picture from him. “This is fantastic, Steve. We’ll hang it in the workshop.”

“Punk,” Bucky ribbed. “Now he’s not even going to like mine.” 

Which absolutely wasn’t true, as the robot rolled forward towards an offering of a small Lego set of DUM-E himself, an equally miniature Iron Man blasting off beside him. The robot chirped, rotating his claw in Tony’s direction.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Sure buddy, I’ll bring it all down to the shop for you later. Now get out of here, you spoiled heap of junk.” The robot swivelled at him again, fondness obvious in the little swirls, and rolled towards the elevator. “Yeah, yeah, happy birthday, kid.”

Steve beamed at the eccentric billionaire, who winced and bit back his smile.

“You people are ridiculous.”

“But we’re your ridiculous people.” Bucky pointed out, and the room erupted into pained groaning.

***

“He smells weird.” Bucky pointed out the following morning, glancing up at Steve from where they lay together in bed, an obvious emptiness between them.

Tony was, once again, noticeably absent.

He’d escaped after the birthday party, crying off some excuse about a last-minute project when Bucky had tried to corner him, and had crawled into bed sometime after three that morning only to roll right back out before dawn. Steve had caught him around the waist and tried to pin him in place, but he’d dragged the spare blanket off the bed with him and padded out of the room, wiping his eyes and on the hunt for caffeine.

“Oh? I hadn’t noticed.”

“I didn’t either, at first, I don’t think.” Bucky said thoughtfully. “It’s like one day I just woke up and realized something was different. He almost smells… sweeter?”

Steve considered it. “Maybe, I’m really not sure Buck.”

“He’s acting weird, too.”

“He’s always a little weird. Isn’t that why we love him?”

“Weirder than normal, though. Haven’t you noticed how he’s always running off? I feel like we’ve barely spent five minutes with him all week.”

“He came to bed last night?” Steve offered, but Bucky cocked a brow.

“A two-hour cat nap where he keeps us both up muttering in his sleep doesn’t count as coming to bed, Steve.”

Bucky wasn’t wrong; there had been a clear shift in Tony’s behaviour recently. Steve had attributed it to Stark Industries’ upcoming tablet release, and Tony’s work with the Maria Stark Foundation on a new charity branch, launching on a global scale to accompany their work with the Accords council.

He hadn’t considered that there might be more. 

“You think it’s heat?” Though that wouldn’t fully account for the shift in the Omega’s scent. 

“Nah, he’d have told us. Plus, you remember last time? He’d be poppin’ his top if he was and gettin’ all squirrely on us.”

“So, what then?”

“Let’s just go ask him. Corner him,” Bucky decided, shooting out of the bed and tugging on a pair of Steve’s sweatpants that had been kicked haphazardly to the floor the night before.

“He’s not going to like that.” Steve grumbled low in his chest, concerned, but still scrambling up after him and rooting around in his dresser. It was two pairs of shrunken sweats tossed towards the garbage before he came up successful.

“Buck seriously, you are terrible at the laundry.”

“Whatever, come on.”

Steve and Bucky wandered down to the workshop, entering both of their codes and coming up unsuccessful which was… unexpected. Steve had had access to all of Tony’s personal spaces since New York, save the first few weeks of their return, and Bucky had gained equal status not long after he’d come into the fold of their relationship.

It had happened, quite literally, in the midst of them all stumbling into bed together, Tony rattling off codes to the ceiling robot as he’d shoved his hand down Bucky’s pants.

The workshop was dark and seemingly vacant, various projects strewn across the worktables and a few screens lit on the far side, running a set of code that FRIDAY was likely processing on Tony’s behalf.

“FRI, is Tony in the building?” Steve asked the AI.

“Boss is currently at Stark Industries, Captain.”

Bucky gave him a quizzical look. “Okay, somethin’s up. He never goes in on Sundays.”

“FRIDAY, call Pepper please.” Steve requested, and the soft click of the line connecting was initiated. In just a few moments, her voice echoed through the hallway.

“Steve! So nice to hear from you! I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” She greeted warmly.

“I mean, you could have seen me last week if you’d shown up for DUM-E’s birthday,” He teased and was rewarded with a chastising gasp. “But I suppose being a hot-shot CEO means you’re extra busy these days.”

“I’d say you’re right, but I was having dinner with Happy that night and that took priority. Have to keep the romance alive, you know?”

Bucky chuckled and Pepper greeted him next, albeit slightly more formally.

“What can I do for you two?” She asked.

“We’re just calling about Tony.” Bucky explained. “He’s been acting a bit off the past few days and he’s not down in the shop. Our codes don’t seem to be working. FRIDAY says he’s at Stark Industries. Have you heard from him?”

There was a pregnant pause that left Steve’s eyebrows resting along his hairline. “No…” Pepper seemed to choose her words carefully. “I have not heard from him, but I’d be willing to guess that he’s going to be home later tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning.”

Bucky turned a confused expression on Steve. “Then where would he–”

“What doesn’t he want us to know, Pepper?” Steve interrupted.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Steve. But I think that it’s probably best I give you my override codes, just in case he goes straight down to the workshop when he gets back and tries to lock himself in again.”

“What are you–”

“That would be great, thanks.” Steve interrupted again, and Bucky glared. Steve jotted the code down into a notebook he kept in his pocket, shoving it aside for later. He thanked Pepper and ended the call before Bucky rounded on him.

“Now you better tell me what’s goin’ on, right now Stevie.” Bucky growled, pointing a finger in his face.

“Wow, look at that posturing.” Steve teased, gripping his jaw and pressing a kiss to his stiff mouth despite the rumbling in Bucky’s chest. “No need to be jealous, Buck. This is just something Tony used to do. He’d get all worked up over something and dart off for a couple days until he figured it out and was ready to talk.”

“I ain’t seen him do this before.” Bucky replied warily.

“Like I said, it was something he used to do.”

“Did he always smell funny when it happened?”

Steve considered it. “No, that’s still new.”

“Well what are we gonna do?” Bucky demanded, letting Steve lead him by the elbow back towards the elevator and up to their shared floor.

“We’re going to break into the shop when he gets home.”

Bucky fretted for the better part of the afternoon as it turned into evening, fluttering and pacing in a way Steve hadn’t seen since, well, before the war. It wasn’t unlike the way Bucky would worry after him when the winter months set in and pneumonia threatened around every corner.

The pungent smell of sour milk curdled through their apartment for almost an hour as the clock crept closer to eleven and Tony still hadn’t returned. It was giving Steve a headache, and desperate to sooth his mate and bring out that beautiful scent of clotted cream, Steve had forcibly pinned Bucky down to the couch.

He took Bucky apart with firm, slow hands, calming him with soft strokes down his chest, trailing lower and harder until Bucky’s brain shut off and gave over to pleasure.

Two orgasms later, Steve floated restlessly in his own thoughts, tethered by Bucky’s heavy weight on his chest where he was snoring. Warm breath swirled over his chest, Bucky scenting peace and ease, even in his dreams, relaxing Steve’s own nerves.

It could be any number of things off with Tony, really. Most obviously that if Tony was going into heat, which was fewer and farther between these days, Clint’s teasing had struck a chord and he was wrapped up in his mind over Bucky’s comments from before.

There had never been any pressure intended. Tony and Steve had talked at length before they’d initially bonded that things like nesting and breeding weren’t in the cards; Tony having no instinct and being past the age to have or want children anyhow.

It hadn’t been a big concern – they had an eclectic mixture of family and Steve wasn’t even sure if he could have children after the serum. Bucky hadn’t brought it up outright, but had shared similar sentiments in passing. If anything, they’d expand their family in other ways if it came up.

If it wasn’t that, maybe it was the bonding issue.

On a good day, Steve could still pull at the bond, sending and receiving little snippets of emotion and sensation between them, but it was weak. They’d agreed, when things had started to slot back into place, and Bucky had come barrelling into their relationship in full force, that it was something to be set aside and discussed another day.

That had been months ago.

None of them had mentioned it, though Steve was sure that he wasn’t the only one that thought about it. Who wouldn’t, having found not one but _two_ mates? Except Tony’s fear was that it wouldn’t be that easy; that he’d somehow get stuck, partially bonded to only one of them because triads were rare and the research was vague, or even that Bucky might not even be able to bond at all and be left behind.

Steve pressed his mouth to Bucky’s forehead, evening out the small lines as Bucky slept. The questions circled round and round in his brain, driving him insane.

When he finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, the odd, sweet scent of Tony’s… whatever it was, interrupted his dreams and set his blood stirring in his veins.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony hadn’t been sleeping well.

When he had been little, Jarvis had been one of the few people in his life able to help him quiet his mind and drift into some semblance of sleep. Jarvis was also the only one who read to him; his father too busy with work, and too aloof to be interested, and his mother too preoccupied with social commitments to be home in the evenings.

So, Jarvis had read to him most nights of his childhood, instilling a strong fondness for high fantasy that started with the Hobbit.

Tony remembered crawling into his bed, stretching out beside the old man, and taking turns reading pages as Tony stumbled over words and argued that his turn always came too soon. Jarvis’ lilting voice always seemed to stitch the story together, effortless and smooth as butter.

The Hobbit had become one of his favourites, and he had fallen in love with Tolkien as a young man, well into his adulthood. What he hadn’t anticipated, however, was this strong identification with one very particular, scaly character. 

Outside the workshop he could hear Steve and Bucky’s muffled voices and he curled in on himself, snuggling further into the mass of blankets and pillows that had started on the workshop sofa and spilled over onto the floor sometime in the past few days.

A dragon atop his treasures.

Pulling a body pillow he’d acquired from somewhere in the Compound – Wanda’s, maybe – closer to his chest, Tony pressed his face deep into the blankets. The nest had started slowly, scenting of all of the Avengers, until it had morphed into something else entirely. _Pack_. 

He’d hoped that he would have more time. Not that he’d done a particularly good job at hiding this. If anything, he’d expected his partners to figure it out sooner.

Tony’s nose wasn’t nearly as sensitive as his two Alpha’s, but he could smell the faint sickly-sweet cloud that followed him every time he left the workshop, even after hours scrubbing himself clean.

They’d been more oblivious than he’d expected and he had relished every moment of it. There were remnants of guilt in the back of his mind for avoiding them so long, but he’d wanted time to savour this.

Tony’s nest. It was perfect.

But the gig was up, marked by a mixture of excitement, and searing-hot embarrassment gurgling in his stomach.

“What in the world–”

“Buck.” Steve’s voice cut him off, quiet and firm as the doors to the workshop swishing closed behind them.

Tony could picture them, standing just a few feet away, Steve having paused their movement, maybe with a hand on Bucky’s chest. Both of them would be looking down at him; the pathetic little Omega, curled up in his nest like Smaug on his mountain of gold and jewels.

Done in by his own base instincts.

“Don’t say it.” Tony grumbled, refusing to open his eyes.

“Tony, doll, you should have said something.” Bucky’s voice was gentle and soothing as he shuffled closer, crouching down beside Tony’s curled knees.

“You made this?” Steve asked, an odd cocktail of surprise and awe, marked with notes of reverence Tony hadn’t been anticipating. He tugged the blanket up over his face before Steve added, softer and with more finality, “you made this? For _us_?”

“Shut up.”

It wasn’t that Tony was ashamed, per say, because if he was anyone else this would have been perfectly normal.

Except he wasn’t in heat and he wasn’t sure when, or if, that might every come again, and he’d spent the better part of a few decades coming to terms with the fact that he wasn’t a typical O. That he was… defective, with a heart condition that impacted his heats and the arc reactor in his chest that had given his natural Omega scent an underlying tinge of burning solder.

A complete lack of submission or inclination towards domesticity.

On a good day, these were things Tony actually _liked_ about himself. So, when he’d started getting this persistent itch to collect everything and anything in the house that even resembled the word plush, Tony wasn’t certain how to feel.

Now, in the middle of the absurdly large nest he had created for his Alphas, it almost felt like a betrayal of who he truly was. That of all people, it wasn’t fair he had been dealt so many difficult cards, only to succumb to _this_ after all.

“This is beautiful, Tony.”

Steve laid a warm hand on his back over the blanket, and oh, he could just arch into that hand and let himself fall to pieces.

“It’s ridiculous.” He muttered, resisting the urge to preen under Steve’s attention, the reptilian part of his brain screaming with joy that he’d pleased his mate.

They shifted around him, Bucky curling behind him and pressed against him legs to chest with Steve at his front, nudging his head into his lap. A hand ran up and down his spine, another through his hair. It felt placating. It felt wonderful.

“It’s not ridiculous, sugar. It’s in your nature. You can’t help it.” Bucky said gently, then added, “no more than when Stevie bends you over and tells you he’s gonna fill you up with his pups, y’know.”

A heavy thump of skin on skin made Tony laugh and relax by a fraction. He peeked through one eyelid to see Steve above him, flushed red and guilty. Maybe a little aroused.

“Or how Bucky growls every time you sit too close to Rhodey.” Steve suggested

The shove Steve got back jostled Tony’s head in his lap, dislodging a disgruntled grumble from his throat. The alphas settled around him, predictably so. 

“He’s jealous. And it’s hot.” Tony gave his Alphas a flat look. “I just wasn’t expecting this. When have I ever done anything like this? Seriously? Tell me. I feel like… some fifties housewife. Dress me up in some hosiery and I could basically be playing house for my big, strong Alphas. Maybe I should start cooking your dinner, too.”

“God, please do not do that.” Bucky nosed at the back of his neck, smirking into his skin.

Peeling back the blankets, Tony let Bucky wrap an arm around his waist, hauling him closer until Bucky was pressing his mouth flush against the nape of his neck, treating him to little pecks and flicks of his tongue. 

“What’s this really about, dollface? You don’t need to fit some cookie cutter mold of what “Omega ' should be. And what’s so wrong with a fella showin’ his mates how happy they make him and givin’ ‘em such a thoughtful little gift?”

“We love it, Tony.” Steve added, blue eyes filled with a deep earnestly that made Tony squirm. “It would have been fine if it had never happened, you know that. But since it has… this is amazing. Thank you.”

Tony glanced between them both, doubtful, leaving Bucky to roll his eyes with a rapidly darkening expression.

“Fine then. You need some convincing?” Bucky asked, dropping off into a dull, displeased tone. “Does that mean you want us to be typical Alphas now? Cause you damn well know we’re not and if you’re sayin’ there’s something wrong with being a little different–”

“Buck, don’t–”

“Can it, Stevie. I want to hear it from him. If he’s got some idea of what Omegas are supposed to be like, then he’s probably got a few things he wants to say to us, right?”

“I don’t think that’s–”

“He probably has a hard time wrapping his head around two Alphas wanting to be together anyway. He can’t be thrilled about how much you love takin’ it up the ass, because that ain’t a very alpha thing to do. Hell, maybe he doesn’t even really want me because we don’t even know if I can bond anymore, and these things are only real if you’re bonded, right?”

Bucky gesticulated sharply to his left arm and it’s missing and deformed glands.

Tony knew how sensitive he was about that. Bucky wasn’t playing fair.

“You’re such a dick.” Tony growled, a put-upon sound that didn’t come naturally to most O’s, pushing out of Steve’s lap until he upright and shoving Bucky down into the mountain of blankets.

The Alpha’s eyes flashed, instincts flaring when his Omega forced him back into a submission but he didn’t rise to the challenge. Instead, the room swelled sharply with Bucky’s arousal, whipped cream enfolding them.

“Yeah, and I’m your dick.”

“You’ve made your point. You got anything to add to this, Steve?”

Steve emphatically shook his head, his emotions splattered across his face, beaming with a love and pride that made Tony twitchy but pleased.

“Plus, you’ve said you’re mine twice now, and if that’s actually the case, I think there’s a much bigger conversation we need to have.” Tony ran his fingers through Bucky’s hair, trapping a handful at the back of his neck and forcing his head backwards, pushing, seeing just how far he’d let the submission take him.

“Tony, it’s okay. We can talk about it later.”

“We’ve been putting it off for months, Steve, waiting to see if this stuck. If it was going to work. I could be wrong here – I’m not – but I’m pretty sure there’s nothing better out there. This is it for me. Clearly,” He said with chagrin, gesturing towards the mountain of softness he’d compiled just for them. “This is all I want. And nests are about two things, right?”

“Bonding and breeding,” Steve pitched forward and wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist, leaning over Bucky to tip his head up and capture Tony’s mouth. “Oh, sweetheart.”

They’d waited too long; Tony’s thoughts were frantic and the bond he left untouched in the back of his mind throbbed and sparked with a hope that startled him. It was rare for him to still feel Steve, sharp and present in the dark recess of his mind.

They should have done this months ago, rebuilt their bond.

Built a new one with Bucky.

Steve had been so patient, especially in the beginning, waiting for Tony to decide what he wanted, agreeing to let the bond all but die the night that Tony had called to say they were coming back, because it hurt too much to keep it alive.

Tony relaxed against Steve, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss. Bucky’s hand curled over Tony’s own on his chest, anchoring him.

“You’re sure, Tony?” Steve breathed against his mouth. “You want to be ours?”

“Ours?” Bucky echoed, thumb stroking light over the inside of his wrist. Tony broke away from Steve’s kiss and leaned down to offer one to Bucky, nipping at his bottom lip the way Tony knew he liked best. A little pain to accentuate the pleasure.

“I want you to be mine.” He mouthed along Bucky’s strong jaw and felt Bucky’s hips twitch up towards him. The faint smell of bitter, dark chocolate nudged at the edges of his senses. Steve’s excitement, all eagerness and crackling lust. “Both of you, my Alphas. I’d be yours, and you’d belong to each other.”

Steve groaned against his back; forehead pressed into the space between his shoulder blades. “Tony, please.”

Tony would give them everything if he could.

“You should go first, Buck.” Steve suggested, hands coming to grip at Tony’s hips so he could lean in and nip at his chest. When he captured one of Tony’s nipples between his teeth, sucking and then biting down lightly, it was Bucky who groaned.

The pair stripped Tony near naked in seconds, pants shucked off and boxers tugged low enough that the head of Tony’s cock was already free and trapped tight to his belly. He was hard, leaking already, and gooseflesh rose over his skin as one of Steve’s fingers dragged along the tip, spreading slippery moisture across the head. 

Bucky had ripped his shirt right off his body, which, rude, but also hot as hell. Anticipation shivered down Tony’s spine as four hot, heavy hands worked him over slowly, rolling over his person as if they could massage pleasure into every crease and crevice. 

Soon he was going to feel that in his _mind_ again _._

Their every sensation, layered over each other and bursting like fireworks, fading and glowing renewed before the last had fully disappeared.

Tony’d near forgotten how good it could be, not letting himself think about it as he worked his way back to Steve slowly, carefully. But all three of them… the potential for all that pleasure left Tony’s mouth watering.

“You’ve been waiting for this for months.” Bucky countered between sweeps of his tongue in Tony’s mouth.

The man kissed like a God and Tony would have happily bowed down and worshipped at his altar for the rest of his life.

One of Bucky’s hands wormed its way down between them, pushing his own restrictive pants off as Steve’s hands slid up his ribs. 

“I should get to choose.” Tony grumbled. “My mates.”

“My mates.” Steve rumbled in challenge, tipping him sideways and pressing him down into the blanket mound in a delicious display of ownership.

“Mine.” Bucky growled.

Tony laughed freely, relishing the flare of possessiveness as the pair leaned over him. Steve was perfect like that, eyes dark and blown black, giving over to that hindbrain desire to claim and mark and _take_. Bucky, a shadow over his shoulder, hands stripping off his shirt to explore the expanse of perfect skin.

“Fuck me, mates. Claim me. C’mon, please.”

Tony was slick between his thighs, fluid already leaving shimmering trails down the backs of his legs, glistening with anticipation. Steve and Bucky exchanged a look that sent a fizzle of arousal straight to his cock, making it twitch against his belly.

As if sharing silent instructions, Steve recaptured Tony’s mouth and shoved his boxers down to his knees, a second set of hands tugging them off at his ankles. Maybe he could ask them to do all the work, just lay there and bask in their attention, warm and slick, mind wiped blank with ecstasy.

They would, if he asked. He knew that by now.

“Ain’t that a pretty sight. Pretty, perfect little Omega,” Bucky cooed at his ear, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his throat.

The nest shifted around them, lumps and mounds of fabric rippling like water under their combined weight, spilling over the floor. It was soft and hard at the same time, the tile floor buffered under his back.

“Get him ready for you, Bucky,” Steve, always quick to whisper orders framed as suggestions, told the brunet as he knelt at Tony’s side, pulling back one of his thighs. A whisper of a gasp escaped as Steve held him open wide, giving Bucky perfect access to his hole and making him shudder. 

Tony might have felt exposed, belly up, head thrown back revealing the swelling gland at his neck, but he couldn’t feel anything more than desperate, heady desire.

“Look at you, doll, so desperate for it. Gonna make you mine. Ours.”

Bucky was a dirty tease, stroking two metal fingers through the mess between his cheeks, spreading it, and him, until Tony was squirming. All the while, Steve’s hands were exploring them both, pinching at Tony’s nipples, stroking too light and too briefly over his cock. Diving deep into Bucky’s hair to push him down, down, down until he was between Tony’s spread legs.

Bucky dove in like it was his job, spread out flat on his stomach and parted Tony’s cheeks with his thumbs. He licked deep, spearing inside with a pointed, firm tongue until Tony was writhing and gasping, trying to thrust up against that sinful mouth. Steve kept him pinned down at the hip, the restraint sending a sear of pleasure curling low in his stomach. 

It wasn’t nearly enough. Fuck, he was so desperate for it already.

The room swirled with the heady mixture of their arousal and the sweet scent of Tony’s nest. Floating along the high of it, Tony closed his eyes, sensations washing over him in waves. Bucky alternated between deep licks into the cavern of his body, and teasing behind his balls, occasionally sucking one into his mouth and driving him wild. 

“You look so pretty like that, sweetheart,” Steve stroked a hand through Bucky’s hair, pushing it off his face and holding it back at the crown of his head. “Buck’s mouth all over you. How’s his tongue feel inside you, honey, so good, huh?” 

Bucky moaned, the sound a flutter against his ass as redoubling his effort had every lash of his tongue took Tony higher and higher. 

“Bucky – Buck – baby, come on, I’m ready. Shit I’m so ready, please.” He was soaring.

“Oh doll,” Bucky murmured darkly from between his legs, smearing his lips across the inside of Tony’s thighs with a sloppy kiss, spreading his slick. “We’re just getting started.”

He dove back in and Tony’s eyes fluttered up to meet Steve’s, who rewarded him with an equally dark look and kissed him hard, all tongue, before he spread him wider, stretching him further than Tony thought he’d go. 

Steve leaned over him and sucked the head of his cock into his mouth and he clawed back his orgasm with fierce desperation. There were too many hands, too many tongues and he could _feel_ Steve in the back of his mind as he reached for it, cracking open the door and letting the toe-curling pleasure of Steve’s hot mouth radiate back into his own mind.

“Oh fuck, Tony, yes. I can’t believe I can still – fuck.”

Steve paused, panting as he pressed his forehead against Tony’s thigh and tried to catch his breath. Tony could feel it too, the shadow of the feedback loop of pleasure they’d be missing this entire time.

And he was going to have that with both of them.

“Bucky, now. Stop teasing. Fucking mate me, alpha. Come on.” Tony prodded him sharply in the ribs with a foot and Bucky growled at him, a challenge.

“You’re not in charge here, ‘mega.” 

A hint of teeth scraped against his sensitive rim leaving him gasping and shoving at Bucky’s shoulder. Tony was rambling, repeating his name and rattling closer and closer to begging him to just move, get inside him. Give him something more. 

Bucky stripped out of his shirt and boxers, gloriously naked before crowding back over him. The gland at the curve of his neck was swelling slightly where it could beneath the metal shoulder joint and Tony traced a finger over it, eyes heavy. 

Bucky hesitated. “If it doesn’t take–”

“It’ll take.” Steve assured him, leaning in to steal kisses from Bucky’s slicked mouth and moaning at the taste.

They were so beautiful together, his Alphas, all thick muscles and soft hands. Steve, so commanding and strong, anchoring them both, slid a hand between Bucky’s legs and stroked him a few times. He slipped his fingers between Tony’s legs and stole from the puddle between Tony’s thighs. Using Tony’s own slick, Tony watched with rapt attention as Steve stroked Bucky, wetting him until his cock was shiny and ready, a deep, near-painful red.

Maybe there was still time to suck him. Fuck, Tony wanted that gorgeous cock in his mouth. 

“But if it doesn’t…”

Despite the extreme amount of effort it seemed to take, head dizzy and spinning with pleasure, Tony propped himself up on an elbow and pressed a hand flat against Bucky’s stomach. “We’ll love you anyways. Always.”

Bucky gave him a doubtful look, but it parted and cleared, sun coming through the clouds as Bucky nudged him back down, bracketing him in with his elbows and folding Tony in half. 

Bucky loved him this way – either of them, really – wanting to watch every flutter of emotion and sensation as it crossed Tony’s face. He liked to suck the air from Tony’s lungs and swallow his cries until Tony was a gasping mess, Bucky the only thing he could see, taste, smile.

“Alpha,” Tony whimpered, Bucky making the slow press into his hole before he slid home, thrusting deep into him. Oh, if that wasn’t perfect. 

“There’s a sight.” Steve’s breath was hot in Tony’s ear, one hand stroked up his chest to curl around the side of his neck.

He tipped Tony’s head to the side, fingers teasing and rubbing firm circles into the gland there until he was throbbing; every press of Steve’s fingers causing another ripple of pleasure and corresponding rush of slick between his thighs.

Bucky was groaning above him, picking up the pace and brushing over Tony’s prostate on every third or fourth thrust. It was enough to drive him crazy and the hind part of his brain wanted to give over, come apart.

Tony’s arousal flooded the air thickly, bathing them all in coffee and hazelnuts as his mind exploded with _lustlustlustBONDbondlust._

“C’mere sweetheart.” Tony blindly tipped his head at the request, following the hand that was gripping his chin and the soft voice directing him. “Oh fuck, that’s perfect. Just like that.”

Steve pressed into the shallow of his mouth, lazily thrusting the tip of his cock between Tony’s lips as he tried to suck and lick between gasps. Bucky wasn’t leaving any room to breath, pressing over him and setting a punishing pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin and the musky, salty taste of Steve down his throat left him teetering on a knife’s edge.

Pleasure threatened to suffocate him as tears formed behind his eyes. 

Good, so fucking good. _Please_. 

“Tony, come on doll, god look at you. You’re perfect. My perfect ‘mega, taking us both so well. Just want to keep you like this forever. Stuffed full. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Tony tried to nod, _god yes please_.

Steve’s cock slipped out of his mouth as Bucky tugged Tony up into his arms, using reserves of his strength to manhandle Tony exactly where he wanted him and Tony spilled forward, a limp doll, open and easy with pleasure. Steve wrapped Tony’s arms around Bucky’s neck for him, pressing up against his back and for a second, he could feel Steve’s cock slip between his legs, sliding against where he and Bucky were joined. 

Maybe if he asked real nice Steve would slide in there too. They’ve talked about it – his Alphas always saying it wasn’t safe, it was too much – but if he begged now, maybe they’d knot him together. Take him together. Bond together.

Tony shivered and gasped at the thought.

“Alphas please – please, I want. I need. Steve, please, both. I want both.”

Steve grinned into his shoulder, biting softly at the skin just below his gland and making him cry out. “No. Tony, no.” 

Tony groaned, whimpered as a light smack of redirection landed on his ass. It was hot, despite the cool metal of Bucky’s fingers. 

“Greedy.” Bucky grunted in his ear, picking up the pace now that Tony’s perched on his lap. He was hitting that sweet spot with every thrust and it was just on the right side of too much. Tony’s mind seemed to come apart at the edges, unravelling as he let his head loll back, taking in Bucky’s pinched brow between the slits of his eyelids.

Sweat clung to his brow and he was glowing.

“Mate me,” he gasped, tightening his hands in Bucky’s hair and pressing his face into the side of his neck until Bucky started mouthing at the sensitive gland. He was a dirty tease. A dirty tease, stroking his tongue along the edges, offering him a whisper of teeth, but not biting down. 

Why wasn’t he biting?

“Alpha, Bucky – Bucky please, please bite me. I want it. Fuck me, baby please, give it to me. Want it. Want you. Bucky? Bucky – _James_.”

That was key. Bucky growled low in his chest, teeth constricting around the gland until it was painful and tears flickered behind his eyes. It was too much.

Tony’s mind screamed and twisted away from it, the bond in the back of his mind snapping and exploding into a million tiny shards. What was left of the connection to Steve was torn away from him and for a second there was nothing – he was alone – what?

Ripping his head back, Tony gave a fierce shove to Bucky’s chest, forcing him back enough to get his mouth on his neck and sink his teeth into Bucky’s gland. Bucky tasted like sharp metal, the copper of blood, thick, delectable cream and – 

Pleasure exploded through him and Tony swore he’d transcended into light itself.

He burst, hot and thick between them and he could feel Bucky in his _mind_ when he came, shooting a stream of heat into his body and clamping his hands down hard on Tony’s waist to keep him still.

It was perfect, oh fuck it was everything he’d hoped it would be–

Suddenly, Tony was empty. 

Why was he empty? He couldn’t remedy the sensation with the bliss in his mind. Warm satisfied fizzles of aftershocks fluttered along his spin and everything was perfect except he was...

_Oh_. Steve pushed into him from behind as Bucky shifted back. He hasn’t knotted him because – because Steve. Of course, Steve. Tony blinked blearily, taking in the look of amazement and love on Bucky’s open face and he smiled. 

He’d given that to Bucky.

“Mate,” Steve whispered into his ear, thrusting into him slow and easy as he twitched with oversensitivity. Through Bucky’s mind’s eye he could see himself, Steve’s arms wrapped around his middle, holding him upright. 

Tony must be flushing pink all over, he thought absently, shocked to the core with the intense desire Bucky was radiating across their bond. 

Bucky gasped. “Steve I can feel you–”

“Buck, please.”

Steve sounded desperate. Tony understood, he felt desperate too. 

They’d talked about this, maybe? They must have, because Tony felt Bucky’s mind cleared – how is that even possible? Tony’s still a puddle of post-orgasmic haze – and he shifted with purpose behind Steve, already hard again. Damned super soldier stamina. 

Steve pressed Tony down onto his back and captured his lips, tongue dipping inside and tracing the cavern of his mouth where he tasted himself. There was a valiant twitch between his thighs that Steve took as an invitation to paw at him, grasping him loose in one oversized hand to stoke the embers of arousal in his belly back to a roaring, screaming fire. 

“I love you, Tony. Fuck I love you so much. I’ve missed you. Sweetheart thank you, you’re perfect. My perfect omega. Beautiful, beautiful.”

Steve sucked at the gland on his throat, lapping and laving until Tony was squirming and closer to coming than he’d thought possible at this point in his life.

Steve shifted, pressing Tony’s thighs higher. Fingers teased where Steve’s thrusting into him – Bucky – and Tony was hit with an intense wave of lust as Bucky’s fingers disappeared again and Steve arched forward.

Steve gasped into his shoulder and damn, Tony wanted to watch as Bucky prepped him with Tony’s own slick. He loved watching his big, strong Alpha give over, let himself have this beautiful pleasure without restraint.

Watch his cheeks turn cherry red, a mixture of embarrassment and frantic need.

It seemed too soon by Tony’s standard but Steve moaned low in his chest, an encouraging sound, when Bucky pressed into him from behind, jostling Steve forward and deeper into Tony. Bucky set a hard pace, hands on Steve’s trim waist as he’s rocked forward and back between Bucky’s cock and Tony’s weeping hole. 

And oh, that was just perfect. Right there. 

“Mates. Alphas. My alphas. Fuck, please, please.” Tony panted, raking his nails down Steve’s chest. He let himself go boneless in Steve’s capable arms. Steve will take care of him.

Steve’s always taken care of him. Of both of them.

Just when Tony thought maybe it was too much, Steve bit down hard, drawing a fresh wave of blood from Tony’s throat as something forced its way into his mind. It was new – not what had been there before – not what he had been expecting.

Steve presented him with his own gland and gave a sharp grunt when Tony bit down, too hard. Tony wanted it to hurt, he thought viciously, chasing his pleasure. Wanted Steve to understand what this meant after all they’d been through. 

It meant _everything._

The bond flared back to life and he barely had time to process it before Steve was wrenching backward, tipping his head to the side for Bucky’s mouth to seal over his neck. 

Something amazing happened. 

As if in slow motion, Tony watched Bucky slide his head to the side and reveal his gland. Steve’s mouth sealed over it and everything went white.

They were inside him. His body, his mind, fuck, they were inside his very soul.

Tony could feel them breathing under his skin and all of a sudden, he knew. He _knew_ how deeply and desperately these men loved him. It was all around him, looping and layering over each other, every sensation building and answering the one before.

With Steve’s hand wrapped tight around his cock, Tony came again, shifting as Steve’s knot swelled and locked them together, expanding deep in his ass and filling him to the brim.

Steve was groaning, panting into his shoulder, mouth open and pressing barely there kisses into his skin as Bucky was knot-deep inside him too, linking them all together with that aching stretch. 

Tony let himself go, floating across the waves of pleasure rushing through their shared minds. The bond was young and fresh and oh so alive with joy and love, that his vision blurred at the edges.

It was too much. It was everything.

They whispered to him, singing along his nerve endings and exploding his synapses. _Mate_ and _‘mega_ and _perfect, beautiful man_ so he repaid them with thoughts of _mates_ and _alphas_ and _I love you_ , until the words reverberated through his chest and Tony could taste them on his tongue.

Even when he closed his eyes, panting hard, he could feel them smiling.


	5. Epilogue

Tony padded into the bathroom adjoining the workshop, body screaming in the best way, on the hunt for a wash cloth. Behind him, and in the centre of his mind, he could tell the super soldiers were whispering to each other.

“Come on, Stevie, this is too fucking good.”

“Don’t, you’ll upset him.”

“He’ll love it.”

Tony smirked, feeling light and easy, pleasure drunk.

Peeking around the corner of the door, the smile morphing into a horrified gawk when his eyes raked down the sight of James Buchanan Barnes, the fearsome Winter Soldier, decked out in a blue fleece sweater, Black Widow sleep pants that rode up to his knees, a pair of fuzzy ankle socks and bright purple Hulk gloves.

Bucky leaned back in their nest, one leg cocked at the knee and splayed himself shamelessly as he reached out both arms and pulled blankets and pillows alike into his sides.

Tony flushed hot.

“What do you think, darlin’?” Bucky drawled, arching his back and putting himself, and the outfit, on display.

Choking on nothing aside from his own humiliation, Tony padded back towards them with a flaming red face. He was torn between loving it, and brutal embarrassment not because Bucky was teasing, but because it didn’t even make sense that he had stolen these things.

Tony had found a multitude of other items, fuzzy and plush and soft, that all carried the scents of his pack, and yet he’d still taken them. And everyone had noticed.

He groaned.

Everyone was going to know what he’d done and Clint would never let him live it down. _Fuzzy ‘mega magpie_.

“This is absolutely the least sexy thing I’ve ever seen, but damn do you know how to get me hot, Barnes.” Tony growled, attributing his good nature to the stream of _matemateiloveyouperfectbeautifulomega_ whispering across both sides of the bond.

He dropped down to straddle Bucky’s hips; Steve chuckling next to them and already reaching out for them, as he if couldn’t keep his hands off them.

“I hate that you’re doing this to me.” Tony ran his hands down Bucky’s chest in reluctant appreciation. “How do you manage to still look so good in all my fuzzy shit?”

“Yeah? Somethin’ about your alpha in your nest doin’ it for you, doll?”

“This is not doing anything for me.” Steve deadpanned, tugging Tony towards him and licking a strip along the underside of his jaw, practically purring as he reached down and traced the line of Tony’s waistband. “But _this_ could.”

“No more!” Tony pushed at his chest, wriggling free with a laugh. 

“Can we at least keep the nest?” Bucky asked, tugging both men back down and yanking blankets this way and that to cover them.

Tony hesitated, a self-deprecating smile on his lips. “I honestly don’t think I could get rid of it if I tried. Not yet anyway.”

“I never want you to get rid of it.” Steve’s mouth was hot at his ear, breath teasing and tickling. “I love you.”

“Love you.” Buck echoed.

Tony closed his eyes, worming his way deeper into the cozy pile. “Love you too.”

He’d give everything back at the end of the week. 

Hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Or come say hi @ sapphic-futurist.tumblr.com


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